The Shift Ended in Champagne
by Mingsmommy
Summary: Grissom's last night as a CSI ends in an unexpected way. Ahead there be cheese and fluff. Cheesefluff! No real spoilers, but let's say anything through 8X02 to be safe.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI or any of its characters. I am making no money from this fic. Please don't sue.

**A/N:** I lost at a stump the author meme on my livejournal…I lost a lot. These are three ficlets cobbled together. Also posted on my LJ. I really sucked at that meme. CSINUT214 wanted Grissom's last day as a CSI, Jenbachand wanted a giddily drunk Grissom and Microgirl8225 wanted morning after their wedding night. My choice to tie them together.

* * *

The shift, while not intense, had been long. Sara had had the night off and Grissom had stayed at the lab, leaving the four of them to handle three B&Es, two trick rolls, one non-fatal hit & run and one hotel suicide.

Before Sara's kidnapping it would have been harder for them to handle but during her recovery time when Grissom had taken as much time as he could to be with her the four of them had found their rhythm. Everyone knew Catherine excelled at blood spatter and Warrick at printing, but they discovered Greg was nearly as good at Sara at dismantling cars and Nick had surprised everyone by being able to look at an insect infested corpse and begin talking about larvae stage and time of death. His co-workers had stopped, open mouthed and he had looked flustered and slightly embarrassed. "What? I've been hanging out with Grissom for almost ten years. You think I haven't learned anything?"

Since this was Sara's first night off since her return to work the rhythm was easy to find again. And while there had been a lot of evidence to collect and log, it had been, for the most part, a light evening. Warrick and Catherine had been logging the last of the evidence on the hit and run when they received Grissom's page simultaneously. "Wynn. Front desk. STAT." Grumbling about it being five minutes from end of shift, they had grabbed their kits and headed out.

When they arrived, they found Greg and Nick standing near the front desk, looking confused. Before they had time to ask any questions, they were addressed by an obviously, very tightly wound, very busy employee of the resort. "If this is everyone, Dr. Grissom asked that I bring you all together to the Primrose Courtyard." And he began walking quickly across the lobby, obviously expecting the four CSIs to follow.

Dressed in his court suit, Grissom was standing in front of the doors leading to the courtyard. He nodded at the nervous little man and watched him scurry off. Nick was the first to speak, "Gris? What's going on? Where's the scene?"

"There's no scene." He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Warrick raised his eyebrows and Catherine's kit hit the marble floor with an audible clank. "Grissom, what the hell? You drag us over here five minutes before the end of shift for nothing?"

Greg faded back a little, if Catherine was going to go ballistic on Grissom he did not want to be in that line of fire.

He frowned at her. "No, no. I needed to…" He rocked on his heels briefly, obviously slightly nervous. "I wanted to let you all know…" He sighed. "Tonight was my last night as a CSI."

A collective, nearly comedic, "What?!?" rose from the small group surrounding him.

"I resigned, asked Ecklie to keep it confidential. I'm going to be teaching full time. I'll be a professor of Biology at UNLV." He looked at Warrick. "I decided a long time ago I wouldn't make a production of it when I left; I thought I'd just leave, no goodbyes. But," one hand escaped his pocket and gestured at the people standing in front of him. "I realized I couldn't do that. Not after everything."

"Why? Why are you leaving?" Greg asked, uncertainty tinged with sadness weaving through his voice.

Both hands were back in his pockets and Grissom shrugged. "It's time. It's probably been time for a while." Briefly his eyes flicked to Warrick, again. "I've made my recommendations for supervisor. Whether the sheriff and Ecklie will agree, I don't know." He cleared his throat. "The work you all do, it's really important and you're good at what you do. The best. I've had the enormous privilege of watching each of you grow into the amazing CSIs you are. And you're not only excellent investigators, you are incredible people. I'm proud to know you." His eyes touched each of them. "Thank you. For everything."

Catherine was dabbing at her eyes, Nick and Greg were staring at the floor and Warrick reached out a hand to the man he admired most. "Thank you, Gris." The other two men moved forward murmuring their own thanks and shaking hands. Catherine simply launched herself into his arms; after a second of shock, he smiled and hugged her back.

"So," Greg's toe nudged the floor. "Can we take you out to breakfast?"

Grissom started. "Oh, well, yes, that's one of the reasons you're here; I've arranged breakfast for a little later. But first…" A grin suddenly split his face as Brass poked his head out of the door leading to the Primrose Courtyard.

"Are we ready? This girl is about to jump out of her skin."

Grissom nodded. "Yes, we're coming."

The detective snorted. "She says you've got two minutes or she's changing her mind." And he disappeared behind the door again.

Catherine's eyes narrowed and Nick's widened. Greg started sputtering and Warrick laughed. Almost shyly, Grissom nodded at the unspoken question.

He opened the door to the courtyard with the sun rising over a garden of trees and flowers, accented by two babbling fountains on either side of what was obviously a wedding canopy. "We wanted you all to be here; you're our family." He smiled. "As with all things, there's an end and there's a beginning. Welcome to our new beginning."

* * *

"You are so beautiful, Mrs. Grissom," his arm wrapped tighter around her as they swayed down the hall. The simple chiffon sheath she had donned earlier that morning flowed with her steps and she shivered at the delightful warmth of his arm against the exposed flesh of her back. He started singing _You Are So Beautiful_ in a charmingly inebriated fashion.

An eyebrow quirked in his direction, "You are so drunk, Dr. Grissom."

He laughed, an exuberant, spiraling sound. "Not drunk." She shook her head in mock exasperation. "I just had a little champagne." He squeezed her a little. "I couldn't be rude…had to drink to all the toasts."

"A lot of champagne, not a little, you had a lot."

They stopped in front of their suite where he promptly took her in his arms, "Not drunk," he grinned at her "But maybe just a little bit," he dipped her backwards "tipsy."

She gripped his shoulders tightly, laughing helplessly as he placed a kiss against the side of her neck and then brought her upright. Gasping slightly, she reached into his jacket pocket, searching for the key card.

He, in turn, slipped a hand into the bodice of her wedding dress and ran a hand over the curve of her breast.

"Gilbert!"

"What?" He asked innocently as a roughened fingertip found and stroked over a suddenly peaking nipple.

"You are groping me in a hotel hall!"

He titled his head, studying the flush that was traveling across her cheeks and he grinned. "So? We're legal now." She sputtered and removed his hand from her dress. His face immediately fell into an adorably feigned pout. "Well, you started it."

"I," she huffed, "am looking for the key to our room."

He laughed and pulled her fully into his arms and kissed her with a deep passion and lighthearted abandon, his tongue stroking hers as both of his hands moved to cup her ass and bring her body firmly against his.

Neither heard the door beside their suite open, neither was aware of the middle aged couple staring at them open mouthed, until the man barked tersely, "Get a room!"

Breaking the kiss, Sara blushed and Grissom produced the key from a side pocket. "Taken care of," he sang blithely to the grumbling couple now trudging down the hallway.

He inserted the key, and unmindful of her surprised shriek, swept his new wife up into his arms and carried her over the threshold, singing, "Can't you see? You're everything I've hoped for, you are everything I need…"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against his. "You are so beautiful to me."

* * *

The sheets, a high thread count brilliant white, were in delicious contrast with the tanned skin of Grissom's back, even providing a nice foil for the excessively mussed salt and pepper (more salt than pepper these days) curls. She hoped, however, the high thread count did not prevent air from passing through the pillow since his face was fully pressed into it.

She didn't know how he could sleep like that. How could he breathe with his face completely covered? Not that she was complaining; at least the pillow muffled some of the god-awful snoring he did when he'd been drinking. Of course, she should cut him a break; even though he had been "tipsy" he had been quite energetic in the carrying out of his marital duties. She grinned at the unconscious form next to her.

He snorted, snuffled and turned his head toward her, one side of his face still denting the pillow. Several marks and indentations marred his face, one red one slicing down his cheek giving him a sort of scarred, inebriated in a not-at-all-charming-kind-of-way pirate look. She wasn't a hundred percent sure, but she thought he might have left a significant amount of drool on the pillowcase, as well. Not exactly a puddle but a good sized circle.

She wondered if he was going to be hung over. She smirked to herself…he was a big baby when he was in pain. Might not be the best way to start off their married life, but it might be good for some ribbing.

Lightly, she ran a hand down his bicep to his forearm, not to wake him but because she wanted to feel his warm, living skin under her fingers. She watched her fingers glance over his hand and then whisper back up his arm. When she reached his shoulder, she noticed a bleary, slightly bloodshot but, oh so blue, eye studying her from his sleep rumpled face.

Guiltily, she waited for him to either close the eye and go back to sleep or grumble at her for waking him when she knew he had drunk far too much.

The eye shut and then reopened slowly. In a voice rasped and rumbly, he informed her, "We're married."

Solemnly, she nodded her agreement.

"Good." The eye closed again but an arm moved over her and pulled her into his side. She felt him inhale against her hair then he pressed a brief kiss against the top of her head as he repeated. "Good."


End file.
